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Dad was great at playing innocent and feigning ignorance of anything he did wrong. Anything he ever did paled in comparison to one particular weekend. In later years, I thought about those days, and our naiveté seemed astounding. We were so blinded by fear of Dad that we took everything he said at face value. It was better not to argue, so we didn’t. Not questioning him taught us some bitter lessons.

Still, even if we had consciousness, wisdom, or understanding of our dad’s selfishness and narcissism, we would never have anticipated the depths of it. We only reached those conclusions well into our adult lives. Dad was also great at playing innocent and feigning ignorance of anything he did wrong.

High School

I spent part of my high school years in Texas. My dad worked for 3M, and we moved there for his job. High school was difficult, as it was for all teens, but moving to a new state and a new school mid-year was a gut punch. There we were. While we were there, Dad began dating. He met a woman and would spend long hours on the weekends with her, though my sister and I didn’t know about her. My dad, the consummate liar, would tell us he was visiting a friend he met in Waco. This was the beginning of one of the most deceitful things my dad ever did. I don’t think my sister or I have ever gotten over it.

Dad had to travel for work every now and then. We were old enough to take care of ourselves. We knew how to cook and how to contact someone for help if needed. With Dad’s instructions to never open the door to anyone, period, we pretty much did as told. He always made sure to tell us that he had people watching us everywhere.

Yeah. That had its effect too, but we won’t get into that one today.

The Set Up

One day, Dad told us he would be leaving Thursday night and would be back on Sunday. He said he was going to spend the weekend with the woman he was dating to get to know her better, and we didn’t question it.

I don’t remember what we did while he was gone. He usually left us a laundry list of things to do while he was away, and since it was a weekend, it was more than likely laundry, house cleaning, and cooking. Homework was, of course, in addition to our chores. So we did as told, as usual. We didn’t answer the door and only answered the phone if it was him calling.

Back then, dinosaurs still roamed the earth, and there were no cell phones. The internet had not yet appeared on the landscape of life. Computers in general were a thing only large companies were beginning to use, and those suckers were room-sized, not the tiny handheld computers we now have. We used pen, pencil, and paper for all information and computations. So we had to know things.

We were killing the rainforests at alarming rates, or so they said, which is probably why the internet was created. Incidentally, the rainforests are still alive forty years later.

Even though we did not have technology, we still had to do the work future generations would never have to do; we did have caller ID. It was fairly new and cutting-edge. So Dad permitted us to answer calls from him and only family members. Dad called once. Maybe. And it was to tell us to behave and that he had eyes on us. He was coming home on Sunday.

Stab in the Back

Sunday evening came, and Dad did indeed come home from his trip. He walked in, unpacked, got his wash started, and they made dinner.

We all sat at the table, expecting him to tell us what he and this woman had done, and he certainly did.

“Girls,” he said. “I have to tell you something.”

Okay, I thought another trip, maybe. Nope. Not that.

Maybe he was going to leave again for a business trip this time. Not that either.

Dad began speaking while we ate.

“Girls, while I was away this weekend with this woman (names have been omitted to protect the guilty), we got married.”

I’ll let you sit with that one for a sec.

What kind of father does that? We met her and her son once, for a brief visit. We never knew he was seriously dating either of them. As you can imagine, chaos, pandemonium, anger, hurt, and a slew of other traumatic eruptions followed. My sister and I didn’t know what to do or what was happening.

Dad had some things that were off-putting and even awful over the years, but this? This was beyond words. I think this was the day the three of us were torn apart and separated into three individuals. My sister and I never trusted him again, not that we ever did, I think. But we were no longer girls who liked their dad, let alone loved him with the reverence we might have.

Dissolving Ties

I had nothing left. I stopped trusting Dad when he revealed that our mom was not our biological mom, after lying about it for twelve years. Now I truly did not like him. Maybe I no longer loved him either. I never put those thoughts into words.

My sister made plans. She wanted to get away from the situation. She became so upset that my dad felt bad for her and gave her what she asked for. Homesick for Florida, she let her fly out to visit friends. She didn’t come home. She missed her return flight, either by accident or on purpose, and stayed away until Dad decided to move our entire “family” back to Florida.

For months, I was stuck with this man. He was often away with his “wife” as they prepared for the unification of our two families, and I was alone with my thoughts, pain, and bitterness. I was desperate to be done with this family.

I eventually moved out when we relocated to Florida. I tried to stick it out with the nuclear family, but that proved ill-fated. His wife’s son hated him. He was a preteen who had plans for his parents to get back together, and his dad was his villain. I should say, his nemesis.

They fought like cats and dogs. My dad hated him. He called him every name in the dictionary of potty-mouth for professionals and made sure the kid knew it. Her son was told, as we were, without so much as a “How would you feel?” conversation. He knew before we did and before they actually tied the knot, but who was he going to tell? He didn’t know my sister or me. We were strangers he now had to live with.

He eventually left to live with his dad. This came after many fights and the disgusting degradation on my father’s part toward him. How a mother allows any man to do or say what my dad did to this child is beyond me. Neither of them deserved children.

Isolated Incident?

I wish I could say it was the only time my father did something screwed-up. And screwed-up is as gentle a word as I can use, but it wasn’t.

He repeated this act of arrogant dismissal of family decorum years later.

This marriage ended, as anyone would know. She eventually grew bitter that he had treated her child with utter contempt. She finally realized she did not want to be separated from her child for the man she had married. I don’t know what became of her or her child. Honestly, I don’t give a damn, Scarlet.

This was the beginning of my distancing myself from anything related to my dad. I didn’t want to be close to him, and I bided my time.

Downhill

My sister went to visit “our brother,” our non-biological mother, and never came back. She was 16. She had had enough. I stayed until I was 18. I was never the adventurous one. I had to plan. I could not jump into a pit from a fire. It happened anyway, but at least it was my decision then.

My relationship with my dad was never the same. I never liked him after those years. I believe I never did, maybe even before that, to tell the truth.

(Published on Substack, August 2026)

#family #lifelessons #relationships #nonfiction #personalessay

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